How much you have to fuck up in life to start writing something that makes sense

Happy Birthday

The pen moved softly on the paper, its scratching sound the only thing you could hear in the otherwise quiet room. It was a small room filled with the musty scent of old books and coffee. Everywhere, there were books - stacked against the walls, on counters, and even on top of the old fridge. They seemed to take over the space, even under the bed which was half-hidden by a pile of books and papers.

In the middle of the room was a small table with a simple lamp. It cast a warm circle of light on a notebook. The pen wrote with stops and starts, as if it wasn't easy to put thoughts into words.

"Dear diary,

where I found myself in this predicament ... this life? Time the silent thief, has been quietly stealing away second after second from me and I was too busy to notice ...

.... When I imagined my life it wasn't full of days that flowed by like molasses and lonely quiet nights.

Forty years — would you believe it?

Why does the life happen so fast?

Is this all there ... is?

You are born alone ...

.... and you DIE alone ... also?

And in between is what is called life ... your LIFE ...

Where is the excitement where are the hurrahs! They don't teach you that at school: After you finish with school years your life is pretty much over, just FYI.

You will be happy if you will squeeze out of a Friday night a short sex with your spouse before your head hits the pillow ... "

"Why, why am I forsaken? What did I do to deserve such fate, CURSE. Is it because I went out with that guy just because I was hungry? Or because I kissed all those boys ... I am a bad person, for running from home, getting high and getting drunk? Every kid does it.

I always tried to be GOOD a good person ... I tried help when I could, I DID, I think ... I ... did ... NO I am lying I didn't ...

I was a shitty person ...

SHITTY daughter ...

SHITTY friend ...

just

.... shit ... "

A tear dropped on the paper.

She looked up and on the wall was a framed picture stating: "Pressure makes diamonds!"

She got it from her stupid coworker, who thinks that motivational quotes and manifestation ... WORKS!

"Imagine your saggy tits being beautiful again as if you were seventeen and one day, PUFFFF, you will have them, yeh I will if I save up money for the surgery ...

Mental note: start another saving envelope: BOOBS

I will put it right next to my other envelopes: Round the World trip in a van, House with garden ... If I start saving today and put a dollar in it in twenty years, with current inflation rates, I can go a buy me a coffee"

"What an utter BULLSHIT this is and people believe it enough to put it into a frame and hang on the wall! I am stupid too! I hang it on that wall my STUPID SELF ...

... hoping ...

... maybe it will help ...

...and ...

... one day I can win that lottery ticket and say: FUCKU YOU and go buy a van ...

Pressure makes diamonds ... what is the true cost ... the pressure is so immense, it shatters you, brakes you into pieces, breaks every bone, every molecule of everything you have ever been and now people are staring at you saying: Oh look at her! A brand new diamond! Five seconds later they will get on with their life and what about YOU?"